Who he is
by Madilayn
Summary: John Gage reflects on his partner and what he has learned about him in the years they have worked together


Ya know, I'm not a violent person but there are a few people I could happily get violent to. Surprisingly (to many) Chet Kelly is not one of these.

Roy's mother in law, however, is probably second on my very short list. She's a nasty piece of work where Roy is concerned. She makes no secret that she believes Joanne could have done better, and her opinion of Roy as a lazy, good for nothing piece of white trash.

Ya know – that surprised me. Roy's a lotta things, but he ain't white trash. I should know. I'm mostly Indian. My Ma, Ann Whitecloud, was a full blooded Chumash. My father – late, unlamented and an almost completely non-part of my life – was half Indian. His mother was Seminole who got involved with white trash. Yeah. Dad's family were pure white trash.

But Ma always said, real good lookin', and real charmin' white trash, whose aim seemed to do not a scrap of work in their life. From what I can work out, the only decent thing he did was marry Ma when he got her pregnant. But that was probably because my grandfather and several others of the Tribe pretty much held him at gunpoint to do it.

He then promptly vanished, reappearing sporadically to hide out on the rez. But when Grandfather and my Uncles found out he was in hiding, they'd march him off to the Sheriffs office and we'd be rid of him for another few years.

He got himself killed in Korea. The only one who really mourned him was Ma. She really did love him, I guess.

Anyway – that's how I know what white trash is. And Roy ain't white trash. Even if, like me, his dad was. His Ma too, come to think of it But Roy ain't. He worked hard to get himself through high school – in spite of his parents objections. He's awful proud of being the first in his family to graduate.

Oh yeah – that brings me to the first person who is on my violence list. Roy's family. Particularly the ones who instilled in him that huge belief he's no good. I dunno exactly who it was – perhaps it wasn't even his family. Maybe a teacher or kids at school. Anyhow, whoever it is has stuck in Roy this deep belief that he's basically no good. Especially if he thinks he's made a mistake, or somebody makes him think he has.

It took me a while to see that. When I first met Roy, I met a man who was supremely confident and incredibly passionate about the Paramedic program.

My Chief had been on my back about me training to be a Paramedic – he knew how frustrated I got when the rescues we did were more corpse retrieval. When the first aid we could give just wasn't enough. I became a rescue man because I wanted to do more than just haul a hose. I had found the training fairly easy – it seemed to play to my strengths and I won't deny I was real good at it.

I knew of Roy DeSoto – he was another rescue man working out of Rampart, but I didn't know him. He was in anther Battalion and on a different Shift so we never ran across each other. And when the Paramedic program was first announced, I knew he was one of the first 10 chosen to take the class. Two failed, and one dropped out during traini, leaving seven who passed. Roy was one of those seven.

He's never told me why he was the one the Brass chose to recruit for the next classes – the second one out of Rampart that I was in, and the third from Harbour General (that started a week after the Rampart one). I'll never know why I was assigned the Rampart class either. Maybe it was the Spirits, or Fate taking a hand to bring Roy and I together. Whatever it was, I'm awful glad they did.

Y'see – I liked Roy from the minute I met him. He was direct and straight forward and very passionate about the program. I'd done my own homework before our meeting, and was more than half convinced to join the program. I just wanted to be sure just how committed the Department was.

Looking back, I think that I know why Roy was put in charge of the recruiting program. When he's really passionate about something, Roy is amazingly eloquent. And he gives off such a solid and steady air that you get the impression that whatever sparks that passion must be pretty special.

My experience, having worked so closely with Roy all these years, I have to say that impression is right. His wife and kids – yeah. They are more than pretty special. I truly envy Roy his family, and I'm honoured that they include me as a part of it. Especially since my Ma died just after I graduated from the Academy. And then the Paramedic Program – definitely more than just pretty special as well. I've watched it spread through the state and the country. At the beginning, I was carried along by Roy, but now he and I seem to be the main spokespeople for the LA County Paramedic program.

I didn't realise at first just how fragile Roy's air of confidence was. It never shows when we're working on a patient. Every action Roy takes is confident and he never hesitates – whether it"s in a medical situation or a straight rescue. Hell, even when we have to pull a line and fight a fire, Roy's the same way.

I'm not gunna lie – his confidence feeds mine, Sometimes the medical stuff really bothered me at first. Especially when it was a situation we actually had time to think as we treated. And _definitely_ when we're in the ocean. But Roy's like my anchoring rock. When there's chaos all 'round us, I see him calmly working and it calms me down and helps me to focus.

See, that's it about Roy. He was born to be a Paramedic.

It's not just a job, you know. Neither is being a firefighter. It starts out that way. Well, for most of us a calling. But definitely a job. A profession actually.

And then there's the nuts like me who become rescue men. And then Paramedics. Now that really IS a calling, I tell ya.

Ya gotta feel it right inside you. Sometimes, it's not quite there when you start out – I know it wasn't with me. I felt the spark when Roy was tellin' me about the Program. When I realised how much of a difference it could make to keeping people alive. Not just heart attacks, but other injuries too.

People we've saved from fires – civilian and firefighter. Saved collapses – building, cave-ins, construction. Motor vehicle accidents. All because we are there and we have the ability to bring immediate medical help. Start an IV. Give proper pain relief. Immobilise correctly broken limbs.

And that most precious of things – helping women give birth.

It gets into your soul. And you can never, ever get away from it. Even off duty, you're a Paramedic. And man, you have no idea how frustratin' it is when you don't have all the gear we take for granted. Like when Roy, Chet and I came across that car accident. That kid almost died because we couldn't start a simple IV.

Since then, Roy and I have talked. We now both carry much more extensive first aid kits in our cars – and I know Roy has a similar one in his house. We can't carry any of the drugs but we've both got proper BP cuffs, saline solution and, if absolutely necessary, the equipment to start an IV using that solution.

There's Rule One of being a Paramedic – don't get emotionally involved with patients. Roy and I joke about it, and quote it all the time.

From the beginning though, Roy never even bothered to follow that rule. It's not obvious. Roy isn't a man to carry is emotions visibly most of the time. But when you know him, they're as plain as day. As visible as mine.

But y'see – that's part of my job. Keepin' the attention off of Roy. Especially when he has to get himself together. Then the ol' Gage Charm comes into play. I become the real visible one – the loud one. The cocky confident one. It lets Roy get his emotions back under control. His hesitation, loss of confidence, the overwhelming emotion gets back under control, and the professional re-emerges.

Still – I know that like me, Roy wouldn't change because being a Paramedic isn't just what Roy does. It's what he is. From deep in his soul, he's a Paramedic. When he passed the Engineers test, he was tempted. He admitted it. But not because it was what he really wanted. Though, he did say he waned it once.

We talked it over y'see. He thought he still wanted it. Not just the money – though that was really temptin' for a man with two kids. Paramedics, though we've as many trainin' hours (if not more) than both a Captain and an Engineer, we're still paid as Linemen, with a small allowance as Rescue Men.

The government pay scales for firemen haven't caught up with the times as yet.

In the end, Roy couldn't walk away. Couldn't give it up. Y'see – Roy's a Paramedic. It's not just what he does. It's more than that. It's who he is.

And I, for one, am mighty glad he is.


End file.
